Owing a single independent restaurant is surely one of the planet’s toughest business models. If you’re good at it there’s a single digit profit percentage at the end of a 70-hour work week. If you’re lacking imagination you won’t bother trying to wow diners but instead will try to capture them with a little bit of everything and do so in an uninspired setting. Premade burger patties grilled and topped with yellow cheese and side of frozen fries and offer them on the corner of two busy streets. And don’t forget the Fiesta dinner ware.
If you’re brave, and you believe your cooking has a compelling story to tell, you can do what Roberto and Gina did and open up a small, very personal restaurant and hold your breath. Most of us that open restaurants have grown up in the business. We’ve washed dishes, bussed tables, cleaned fryers, peeled potatoes, and mopped bathrooms on our way to an Executive Chef or General Manager position. Gina and Roberto? He was a graphic designer; she was a corporate accountant. In the financial crash of 2008 Roberto decided they would buy a large grill (an asada) and tow it behind their truck to county fairs and serve the food of his native Nicaragua. Soon that truck & grill combo became a food truck. Their menu expanded, as did their reputation and when they bought a defunct restaurant, the forgettable Haus Edelweiss on Wade Hampton, and turned it into Asada, Amy and I were there. In a town that gets rave reviews for its independent restaurants, I believe Asada is perfect. They built their reputation on Roberto’s creativity, his artistic talent, attention to detail, and lots of glowing hospitality. A visit to Asada was always filled with friendly smiles, cordial greetings, and humble gratitude. Their team made sure everyone was happy while their food spoke volumes to Roberto’s imaginative touch with colors, flavors, and textures. Yet one can dine at Asada for $20 and have a few dollars left over.
If a chef wants to achieve greatness, their food must tell a story and many successful chefs never quite reach that level of cooking. There’s lots of great food and accomplished chefs in our town, but very few of them serve food that has a “voice”, food that is demonstrably theirs. Yet somehow Roberto reached that level with no background in the business, and that is something I greatly admired.
Over the years we became very good friends with Roberto and Gina and occasionally Roberto would pepper me for a bit of advice, and we often discussed the differences in the cuisines of Central America. When friends or family visited us and we wanted to treat them to a meal that represented the best of Greenville, Asada was always our first choice. I featured Asada in one of my first City Juice columns for the Greenville Journal and on our podcast, the Tin Roof Farm Radio Show. When Amy and I announced we were moving to Belize for a year, Roberto and Gina took us out to dinner and we drank and talked well into the evening. When we returned, our first meal out was at Asada and Roberto and Gina’s glowing smiles and energetic hugs were so welcoming.
This last year was very busy for me and too many times I drove past Asada and thought I should stop in just to say hi, but the clock was often against me so I made empty plans to visit the following week, which never happened. Roberto and Gina have a solid, dedicated crew and they’ll keep Asada open and serving the food that Roberto loved so much.
At Roberto’s funeral, in a small Catholic church, the priest offered up communion to the congregation. I grew up Catholic and not long after Amy and I were married, for a lot of slight, and significant reasons, I accepted the Episcopal denomination. Roberto’s priest reminded us that Catholic communion offers us a little bit of Jesus Christ and that there is another life waiting for us on the other side. That other life has often puzzled me. The how and why and the idea of eternity is something so bizarre, so implausible and mysterious, and no one can say with 100% accuracy what form, if any, that will take. If that is my destiny, I love the thought of meeting Roberto again and spending a few moments with his sparkling smile and sharing the joy in his handshake, and the warmth of his hug. Adios, mi amigo. Hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar.
~ John
I believe this episode of the Tin Roof Farm Radio Show with Gina and Roberto is the best one we recorded.
